The Aftermath
by Tcheu
Summary: "When Harry woke up the next morning, it took him some time to realise where he was and what had happened. For the first time in months – years –, he had slept a dreamless sleep, and woke at noon. (...)" - The war is over and Harry wakes up next morning. These are his thoughts. A short one-shot for now (may evolve if I get reviews and find my muse :). DH compliant.


When Harry woke up the next morning, it took him some time to realise where he was and what had happened. For the first time in months – _years_ –, he had slept a dreamless sleep, and woke at noon.

As he opened his still sleepy eyes, the vision of the scarlet drawn curtains and the comfort of the Hogwarts bed made him think, for a split second, that all the events of the past months had only been a long nightmare from which he had finally managed to wake up. But as he blinked, the horrors of the night before came back to him like a violent thrust in the ribs, intertwined with a strange sense of satisfaction and peacefulness. It was over. _It was finally over_. Voldemort was defeated. For good.

He sat up and pulled his glasses on his nose, and gazed through the windows for a moment. Birds were fluttering in the trees of the forbidden forest. Thestrals were flying in low circles above the grounds, which were still scarred of the battle that had taken place there only a few hours before. Tears swarming to his eyes, the memory of the losses his side had endured came back to him as his eyes fixed themselves upon the half-demolished hut of Hagrid. Harry rubbed his eyes and leaped out of the bed. He immediately regretted his act, as he realised in how much pain he was. It seemed that every inch of his body was now mere pain. Everything ached, inside and out, from his limbs to his soul. The only thing that did not bother him anymore was his scar.

Instinctively, he caressed it with the tip of his fingers; it was still here, of course, but now it was more like an ancient mark of long fought battles.

He put some clothes on and headed for the Great Hall. The castle was very calm; no students walking around, no Peeves... Yet the noises of the battle were still loudly echoing in Harry's mind, like the ghost of an endless fight. When he reached the hall, it was crammed with people, yet very calm. Faces turned to look at him as he walked in the search for Ron and Hermione.

'Hi Harry!' 'Hello Harry.' 'How're you mate?'

He smiled to the familiar faces all around him, and could see the thankfulnees in their eyes. ' _It is over'_ Harry repeated to himself.

He finally found a huddle of read-headed people, sitting close to one another, their hands clasped on mugs of tea and hot chocolate, pulling stern faces.

'Sorry I didn't stay for the wake...' Harry started.

'Tut-tut' said Mrs. Weasley, standing up and giving him the warmest of hugs.

There were tears in her eyes, but she didn't seem to hold any grudge against Harry. He felt even the more guilty for the deaths caused by the battle, for their losses... Bill attacked by Greyback, George losing an ear, Fred dead... And this was even without talking about Tonks and Lupin. And this made him remember his promise. He was Ted's godfather. What was he supposed to do? He did not want to take care of a baby. He couldn't.

'Harry?'

He blinked and got out of his thoughts, and gave Hermione a small smile, before sitting amongst his friends, his family.

'So... What now?' he asked awkwardly. His mouth felt like sand over the words, and he was struck by the realisation of how long it had been since he had had a proper meal, a proper drink, sitting on the heavy benches of the castle.

'What do I do?' he added. He felt empty, purposeless. In a way, his whole life had been about Voldemort, always. Ever since he had joined Hogwarts, he had kept fighting, again and again, but now... What was left for him?

The weasleys looked at each other, unsure. It was Molly who broke the silence.

'Well, you take a nice time off. Take care of yourself.'

'But the world needs rebuilding – '

'Yes it does' ansewered Mr. Weasley 'but you don't have to – '

'I want to. I want to help. In any way I can.'

'And to do that, you have to be fit' said Mrs. Weasley.

Harry looked at his own reflection in the pumpkin juice jug in front of him for a few moments. They were right; he needed to take care of himself. He looked even thinner than he had ever been, older too. Even his hair, usually so untame, seemed strangely straight, strangely _sad._ He realised how long they were now, and let his thoughts go to Sirius for a moment.

'Where am I gonna go?'

'With us, of course!' Ron said.'I bet you don't wanna go back to the Dursleys, Harry?'

'Not really, no.'

'Then you can live with us, honey.' Mrs. Weasley concluded.

Harry answered with a feeble smile and looked around a little more. People seemed tired, but overall happy. The horror that had been overcome was far greater than the losses it had engendered, and the faces around him were full of hope for the future.

Harry, on the other hand, felt completely empty. He had thought that a good night of sleep would have had helped him, and put him in the mood for rejoicing but it had not. It had only made his mind clearer, released his fatigue in his system. He felt like he could sleep for months, and like if his body was never to recover from its injuries.

'I'm gonna walk for a bit, all right?' he said as he rose from his seat. 'See you later'

They smiled at him as he walked away from the hall, and heads turned once again to greet and thank him.


End file.
